Run to You
by Jessica237
Summary: EC. All she had to do was say the word, and he'd run to her from wherever he was; the distance mattered not. Post 8x15.
1. 1

**Title:** Run to You  
**By:** Jessica  
**Pairing:** Eric/Calleigh  
**Rating:** T  
**Timeline:** Post 8x15, "Miami, We Have A Problem."

**Summary: **All she had to do was say the word, and he'd run to her from wherever he was; the distance mattered not. Two part fic. **  
**

* * *

It took six rings before the call finally connected. Six rings, just a few seconds, but it felt like several agonizing hours to Calleigh. Curled up on the couch in a pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts, hair still mildly damp from the shower, she had fought herself only for a few brief moments before reaching for the phone, her fingers quickly tapping out his all too familiar number almost of their own accord.

She was rather loathe to admit it, but something about today had left Calleigh shaken. It hadn't been the case itself, though; instead, it was the aftermath. Something about sitting with Janet Gardner as she watched the video of the last words her husband would ever say to her had broken through her resolve, and Calleigh couldn't help but chastise herself for that – she'd always been better than that at distancing herself from the cases she worked. But this one…something about it had just hit way too close to home.

Sam Gardner had gotten the luxury though of filming that video for his wife, though. He'd had no idea what was to happen to him, much as none of them ever did. But he'd made sure his wife got to hear what was most important, and that was something that so many people who died never got to share one last time with their loved ones.

And these were the thoughts that had plagued Calleigh for the rest of her shift, for the entire drive home, for the amount of time spent in the shower. Now as she sat on the couch, feeling Eric all around her without actually having him there, Calleigh couldn't deny the urge any longer, and before she could even realize she'd dialed the number, she was hearing those six rings followed by the voice she'd so desperately longed to hear. "Calleigh, hey…"

His voice was gruff, thick with sleep, and immediately Calleigh felt a sharp stab of guilt puncture her heart. She'd been so consumed with the desire to hear his voice that she hadn't even glanced at the clock before she'd called, but with the late hour in which she'd gotten home, plus the thirty minutes spent beneath the scalding spray of the shower, she _knew_ it had to be late.

And clearly, Eric had already gone to bed. "Did I wake you?" Calleigh asked quietly, sheepishly nibbling at her lip.

His answer was quick, almost too quick. "No, you didn't. I was just laying here reading the paper, that's all."

Briefly, Calleigh felt the ghost of a smile flit across her lips – that was typical Eric. He wouldn't admit it if he _had_ been asleep, and Calleigh was absolutely positive he had been. "Don't lie, Eric," she sighed, her smile fading as she lifted a hand to her face. Slowly she rubbed at her tired, frustrated eyes, pulling her legs onto the couch and curling them beneath herself. "I'm sorry – I should've looked at the time."

"No," he said immediately, and Calleigh could hear the quiet rustle of the covers as he pulled himself upright, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp. "I just had a headache all day, so I went to bed a little earlier." Calleigh didn't reply, and he offered a soft chuckle, knowing she still felt mildly guilty about it. "Really. I'm _glad_ you called."

She could still hear the slight exhaustion in his voice – Calleigh knew him too well, and it was simply impossible for him to hide it completely. Still, she smiled despite herself; though the sleepiness was there, the sincerity was just as apparent, just as genuine, and Calleigh felt a familiar warmth rush through her. "Still…I'm sorry," she repeated softly, tucking a lock of damp blonde behind her ear. "I just…" Closing her eyes, she allowed a quiet, sheepish chuckle to escape her lips – it was the absolute truth, but lending her voice to it made it seem utterly silly to her. "I just wanted to talk to you. Hear your voice."

Her quiet admission immediately had a smile breaking up on Eric's lips, and very quickly, all trace of residual sleepiness was forgotten. "I've wanted to hear your voice ever since we hung up the other night. I, uh, wanted to call last night, but it was too late once I finally got in." He paused, a slight chuckle echoing across the line. "I think maybe I'm beginning to regret taking this job."

"That bad?"

"Not bad, exactly…" Eric paused, stifling a yawn. "But I _did_ take the job because I wanted to stay _in_ Miami. Running all around south Florida picking up the state's attorney's slack wasn't really what I had in mind. I'm starting to think that maybe I quit CSI too soon…"

There was something in his voice that had Calleigh's lips quirking upward again. "You miss it?"

Eric hesitated. "Parts of it, yeah," he finally admitted. "There are definitely certain parts I could do without, though."

Calleigh nodded, despite knowing he couldn't see. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean…"

Her exhaustion, as well as a slight bit of frustration, was clear in her voice. "Rough day?" Eric asked softly, sympathizing entirely.

Shrugging, Calleigh allowed her thoughts to reign for a moment. "Not really," she answered finally, though almost immediately she closed her eyes, rethinking her answer. "Actually, yeah, kind of. Did you know that, for a few million dollars, you can buy a trip into space now?"

Eric blinked, confused by the abrupt change of pace – to him, it was a total non-sequitur. He knew Calleigh was the _best_ at diverting when there was something nagging at her, but even this seemed completely out of left field for her. "Space? You mean like the stars?"

"Yeah." Calleigh shifted on the couch, the quiet rustling barely audible to Eric's ear. "And apparently right here in Miami too. For a few million, you can spend a few weeks on a real space station. That just…it kind of blows my mind, you know? When I was a kid, the perfect vacation was hitting the Louisiana coast for the weekend. The possibility of space would've never crossed my mind."

"And one day, it might be just as common _as_ going to the beach," Eric said. He chuckled softly, the low rumble delivering a gentle comfort to Calleigh's ear that quickly spread through the rest of her body. "You have to admit, though," he continued, and Calleigh couldn't help but grin at the audible smirk in his words. "It _would_ be one hell of a date, don't you think? I could imagine you and me, and nothing but the stars around us…"

Calleigh giggled softly. "Oh yeah?"

"Well, yeah," Eric teased with a grin, stretching lightly on the bed. "You couldn't?"

Calleigh gave a thoughtful hum. "I don't know," she replied softly, gently twisting the ends of her hair with her fingers. She smiled. "To be honest, I think I'd much prefer that afternoon of diving you promised me…"

"And I like to think that I promised you far more than just one," he replied, and even through the phone, Calleigh could sense the smile on his lips. "I can't wait to get you out there in the ocean…"

Sheepishly, Calleigh bit at her lip, hesitating but for a moment before her quiet reply flowed elegantly from her lips, her words soft and sincere. "I can't wait to get you home." She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling much too vulnerable for her liking. She wasn't sure how she felt about this, these emotions that were consuming every part of her, and only growing more and more with every day that went by. Calleigh missed Eric terribly when he wasn't by her side; couldn't get enough of him when he was.

And that was maddening. She had no control over _any_ of it…but even if she did, Calleigh wasn't sure she'd change any of it. She'd become too accustomed to Eric being a part of every aspect of her life. Working in the lab or out in the field without him by her side had become somewhat of a chore; she couldn't enjoy it as much as she used to because she spent too much of her time missing him. Coming home at night was only something to look forward to if she knew Eric would be there; otherwise, her home felt little more than dark and empty, cold and unwelcoming. Worst of all, though, were the mornings she woke up without him – those were the hardest days to keep a smile upon her face.

It wasn't _her_, these emotions, this almost desperate need to have him with her.

But beyond a shadow of a doubt, Calleigh knew she'd never go back to the way things were – she _wouldn't,_ because her heart couldn't endure the thought of letting him go. He wasn't just a part of her life; he was a part of _her_, and to part with that, with_ him,_ would devastate her.

"Cal?"

His voice, soft and filled with understanding and compassion, cut gently through her silent reverie. Calleigh let out a slow, shaky breath, surprised to feel the slight burning in the corner of her eyes. This was so much harder on her than she'd ever thought it would be. In accepting the job with the state's attorney's office, Eric had cemented his desire to stay in Miami, to remain a part of her life. But in the few weeks that he'd held the job, it seemed he'd spent more time _out_ of Miami than actually within the city itself.

Key Largo, Fort Lauderdale, Pompano Beach…none of the assignments were terribly far away from Miami, but when it was every couple of days, Calleigh couldn't deny that it wore her down in a way she'd been utterly unprepared for. She missed him incredibly, almost in a way that was irrational to miss someone who had only been gone for a couple of days, but that was exactly how much she missed him now.

Her continued silence left Eric concerned; straightening up with his back fully against the headboard, he tuned his every sense into the woman on the other line. "Cal?" he questioned again, his worry mounting quickly as he heard yet another shaky breath. "Talk to me?"

His voice was nothing less than completely inviting, gently penetrating her walls in a way that left her at ease rather than anxious. Calleigh sighed softly, unconsciously drawing her legs closer to her body as she finally spoke. "I just…that case today. It was one of _those_ cases and it…it got to me," she admitted, and uncharacteristic waver in her sweet, Southern voice. "I came home tonight, and I – I just couldn't stop thinking, you know?"

He did. All too well, in fact. It had been one of _those _cases that had finally led to his departure from CSI – the thinking it'd inspired had gotten to him. But now wasn't the time to linger on that, Eric knew, and when Calleigh failed to continue herself, Eric softly took the initiative. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

His voice was _so _inviting, and Calleigh felt her heart clench as she wished he was here with her, his arms around her, instead of nearly an hour away. "The, uh, space travel thing I mentioned earlier? That's what the case was about," she began, finally connecting the dots for Eric as she launched into a quick description of the case itself. Eric listened quietly, searching for more the nuances in her voice than the details of the case itself – even though he couldn't see her, it was clear to him that something had her shaken. Something had gotten to her in the way that very little ever managed to get to Calleigh, and the haze surrounding that didn't clear for Eric until Calleigh had moved past the case. "Janet didn't quite approve of what her husband was doing, going into space like that just because he thought it might be fun."

Eric nodded slowly, speaking only when Calleigh failed to continue. "I can see that. I mean, as expensive as it is…and it's not exactly like it's the safest thing in the world either."

Calleigh gave a soft hum of agreement. "Her husband, Sam, before he died? He, uh, he left her a little video message. Apparently one of the guys on board had suggested they all do that. He had _no_ idea that he was going to die, but he got to make sure she knew that he – that she knew how much she meant to him." Pausing again, Calleigh shifted on the couch, moving the phone to her other ear – mostly due to the anxiety filling her body the longer she spoke. "I sat with her as she watched it, and all I could think about was…" Again she hesitated, swallowing hard. These confessions, the ones she'd so desperately needed to share before she'd picked up the phone, were suddenly all but impossible to vocalize. It had been _so_ much easier in her mind. When she continued, her voice was quieter, so soft that Eric had to strain his ears to hear it. "All I could think about was you and me. Us."

It never failed. Every time that Calleigh referred to the two of them as _us_, Eric found his breath catching in the back of his throat, and this time was no exception. It was ridiculous just how head over heels for this woman he was, and Eric was sure he tumbled just a little farther every time that Calleigh gave even the slightest indication that what she felt was just as strong. He swallowed hard, unable to quell the rapid beat of his heart back down to a normal rhythm. "Cal?"

Letting out a deep breath, Calleigh finally pushed her way to the crux of the conversation, the very reason for the late phone call. "I – I have to tell you something. Because I – I can't…" Pausing, she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the burn of the tears that threatened to fall. Her resolve was faltering, and she _knew_ it shined through brightly in her stammering voice. "I didn't want to – to tell you like this, but I don't –"

She sighed heavily, her frustration apparent to Eric. "Calleigh –"

"I love you, Eric," she murmured, quietly yet quickly – so quickly that the words nearly ran together. She drew in a quick breath, feeling her entire body tingle with an anxiety laced with anticipation, and the intensity only increased once the words had finally slipped from her lips. "The case – the wife and her husband – I just, I couldn't imagine something happening to you and me not being able to say it," she added, her words escaping on quick bursts. Her typical self-assuredness was missing from her voice; there was just something about the admission that left her without any barriers, without any source of fortification surrounding her heart. She was raw, open to him in a way she'd never allowed herself to be before, and while it was liberating, it was also downright frightening.

At her words, Eric's heart had all but stopped; for a moment, he wasn't sure he'd actually heard them at all. He'd be lying if he said he'd expected those words to tumble from her lips; he knew _he_ felt it, had been fairly sure she felt it too just from the looks he sometimes found in her eyes, the smiles that sometimes graced her lips. But he _knew_ Calleigh, and he'd been sure she was far from ready to admit it. His lips parted, but no words came to his tongue; it was as though his voice had been stunned into silence.

The truth in her words was undeniable. She _had_ needed to say it; she'd _needed_ to know that he knew, but now, rather than feeling better, it seemed that the ache in her heart had only intensified. It was almost impossible to breathe through the pain; rather than merely up the interstate, it felt almost as though Eric were half a world away now. She wanted him _now_; missed him with everything she was. All she wanted was to have him there with her.

She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her heart fluttering as, very faintly, her ears perceived the quiet whisper of her name from the other end. When finally she spoke again, her voice was thickened with emotion, emotion she couldn't have concealed if she'd had the strength to try. "I thought that – that saying it would make this easier," Calleigh admitted, lifting a lightly trembling hand to wipe at the stray tears that escaped from her eyes. "I thought that I – that I – but I just…"

She sniffled then, the final sound necessary to shatter Eric's heart, yet somehow simultaneously leaving it overflowing with love and need and utter want for her. "Cal?"

She shook her head, despite knowing that Eric couldn't see the motion. The words articulated quickly in her heart – not her brain, but her heart, and by the time they tumbled quickly from Calleigh's lips, her voice was breaking with them. "But I just want you that much more now."

_I just want you to hold me._

Those were words Calleigh couldn't allow to leave her lips, but plainly they echoed in her mind, reverberating their truth against every fiber of her being. This was _so_ frustrating – she felt weak and lonely and every other feeling that she just utterly abhorred, but there was absolutely _nothing _that she could do. Nothing. Calleigh knew that the pain wouldn't fade until Eric's arms were around her again.

She'd wanted _so_ badly to come home to him today. She'd _needed_ him. She needed him _now_. Eric's silence continued, and Calleigh bit hard at her lip, feeling the heat rise up in her cheeks. Suddenly, she felt _so_ very small, so foolish for throwing the most important declaration of her life out over the phone. He would be home in two days; she could've easily waited until then. "I'm sorry, Eric," she murmured, letting out a deep breath as she struggled to compose herself. "I didn't mean – I mean, I just – I've never – never felt this…"

It was _so_ incredibly frustrating to her. Her words were utterly failing her; no carefully crafted explanation seemed able to make its way from her brain to her lips, leaving her little more than a stuttering, foolish mess. The fact that it was _so_ unlike her just made it that much worse – she hated feeling so out of control. "Eric, I…"

"Say it, Cal," Eric implored quietly, already pushing back the covers and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. In the back of his mind, he knew he was scheduled to work tomorrow, but that knowledge was utterly trivial to him right now. Balancing the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he quickly found his pants and shirt, mentally calculating how quickly he could be out of this lonely hotel room and back to the one place that felt more like home than anywhere else - all she had to do was say the word, and he'd run to her from wherever he was; the distance mattered not. "Just say the word, Cal, and I'm on my way."

Her eyes shot open at his words, her vision cloudy with moisture. "Eric, no, you don't –"

But he _did _have to. Her words echoed in his ears like the most melodious song he'd ever heard, and he wanted nothing more than to repeat them back to her. But like her, he had his own requirements – she'd needed to say it to know that he would hear it in case something happened; he needed to have her in his arms when he said it. Most of all, he missed her as terribly as she missed him; her confession had only intensified that longing for her, and that eclipsed any necessity for sleep that he'd had. "I'm on my way, Cal," he repeated.

Calleigh sighed, though she couldn't deny the relief that washed over her at his insistence. "Eric, it's a forty-five minute drive…"

"I can do it in thirty."


	2. 2

Thirty-one minutes. Eleven seconds.

She'd counted the time; watched the clock like a hawk. And even though she knew it'd been half an hour, to Calleigh, it may as well have been both thirty-one years _and_ thirty-one seconds, both at the same time. It seemed as though an eternity had passed before Calleigh heard the telltale sound of Eric's key in the lock, while at the same time, it felt as though she'd had no time at all to gather her thoughts into something _she_ would understand, let alone Eric.

She didn't understand it; could only gather that the time had passed much too slowly for her heart, yet much too quickly for her mind to catch up.

It didn't matter in the end, though. As soon as the door closed behind him, it seemed as though time stood still; it seemed as though the entire _world_ stood still, the only sound to reach Calleigh's ears the pounding of her own heart. He stood in front of her now, leaving a distance between them that felt almost insurmountable in the still of the night air. She felt his eyes burning into hers from across the darkened foyer; in the past, she would've quickly looked away, but tonight, she found herself unable to accomplish that small feat. And so their eyes remained locked, bound together as though by an invisible force stronger than the both of them, stronger than anything Calleigh had ever felt before.

Anxiously she nipped at her lip, feeling a surge of guilt spiral through her stomach. For those nearly thirty-two unending minutes, it had simply grown and grown, unable to be conquered by anything Calleigh might've told herself. After all, she'd heard how she'd sounded on the phone. Needy. Desperate. _Weak. _So many descriptions she'd always hated, had never wanted to personify. And clearly, it was the neediness, the desperation, the weakness that had brought Eric to her so late, so long after he'd already turned in for the night. And Calleigh hated that; felt almost mortified by it.

But what could she do about it now? He was _there_, in her foyer, the key she'd given him so long ago dangling from his fingers. He'd shaved fifteen minutes off of a normally forty-five minute drive to get to her; he'd sacrificed likely much-needed sleep to jump in the car and drive. His eyes were bright, but the rest of him had a sleepy, disheveled look that any other time, Calleigh might've found sexy. Tonight, though, it only emphasized the weight of the moment, as well as her apparent neediness.

Instinctively, Calleigh crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she had the energy, the strength to draw her eyes away from his. She swallowed against the forming lump in her throat, hating herself for the unconquerable emotions spiraling through her. "Eric…I'm sorry. I – I don't –"

She shook her head, hoping the motion would ease some of the tension building in her body; it didn't. And Eric merely continued to study her, giving no indication of the thoughts she knew had to be filling his mind. He was the picture of calm, and Calleigh…she felt like an emotional wreck. She _was_ an emotional wreck.

And she knew what he was doing; knew he was waiting for her to make the first move. She'd said the words, and he'd made the drive, effectively putting the ball right back into her court. She felt put on the spot, suddenly foolish and naïve, like the younger Calleigh who'd at one time been much more careless with her heart. And Calleigh wasn't exactly sure from where those reservations sprouted; even in her mind, which was usually the final obstacle preventing her emotions from seeing the light of day, she knew her confession hadn't been one she'd given lightly, just as her heart hadn't been something she'd given lightly. She'd given it with no intention of ever wanting it back, but still she couldn't deny that the fear remained, especially in light of recent events.

Exhaling deeply, Calleigh gave an apologetic shrug, forcing her mind to clear. It would do no good to linger on any of that now; it had happened, and now Eric was in front of her, waiting for _something._ "I - I should've just called to say goodnight, and left it at that…" she murmured, her voice surprisingly steady, at least for the moment. "I'm sorry."

She'd wanted to look away from his eyes, but found herself unable to; she was surprised, then, at the emptiness that seemed to fall over her when Eric became the first to avert his gaze. He pursed his lips and glanced downward before allowing his lips to curve in a soft, somewhat sheepish smile. And then, he took a step toward her, diminishing the distance between them, but leaving just enough to keep Calleigh from feeling overwhelmed. "I, uh, I'm glad you didn't just say goodnight," he said quietly, slowly meeting her gaze again. "You had more to say than just that."

She turned her head then, unaware that the motion brought a cheek, still slightly moistened by renegade tears, directly into the path of the low, nearly absent light. It was enough for Eric's eyes, though, and he felt his heart drop abruptly.

When he'd first arrived, he'd felt the tension emanating from her; he'd easily perceived that, after her over-the-wire confession, that she'd closed herself off somewhat. And so he'd kept enough distance between them to not be too far away, but to give her the space Eric could sense that she needed. The last thing he'd wanted to do was overwhelm her – he _knew_ the words she'd uttered to him over the phone had left her raw.

But then as he saw the tears that stained her cheeks, Eric found he couldn't maintain that distance any longer. A quick step placed him directly in front of her, and with a steady hand he reached out to her, tilting her face back toward him with gentle fingers beneath her chin. "Calleigh…"

The combination of his soft voice and his gentle touch nearly broke the dam within her, but somehow Calleigh managed to summon up the strength to resist losing it, though _very_ close she was. This was ridiculous, she chastised mentally. This wasn't like her at all; the feelings she was feeling weren't completely foreign, but the nearly total lack of control she had over them _was_. Again she shrugged, though this time the message conveyed was almost one of an uncharacteristic helplessness. "I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I don't know what's – what's wrong with me tonight. I – I thought this thing with you would be good for us, but I just never thought it would be this hard…"

That was a statement that left Eric thoroughly bewildered. There were a number of _things_ to which she could be referring, and with a jolting sense of fear, his mind jumped immediately to their relationship as a whole. She'd thought it would be good, but it was too hard to continue? That didn't explain her almost frantic confession over the phone, though…or did it? Furrowing his brow in confusion, Eric studied the green of her eyes for a moment, attempting but failing to get a read on her hidden thoughts. "Cal…?"

She gave a light shake of her head, a mirthless chuckle slipping from her lips, just as her eyes glossed over with the beginnings of fresh tears. "You…being _gone_ all the time for work," she clarified, and quickly it all clicked into place for Eric. "Couple nights here, then you're gone for a few nights…it's been a nonstop cycle ever since your first day." She stopped, though when Eric opened his mouth, Calleigh quickly cut him off. "I know, Eric. I _know_. I'm the one who told you about the job in the state's attorney's office. I'm the one who suggested you should take it. I _know_ that. I just…" She hesitated, drawing in a few deep, steadying breaths before finding the strength to continue. "I just really needed you tonight…just really wanted you to be here."

"I took the position mostly because you wanted me to," Eric said softly, gently stroking her cheek. And that was true; there was so much he _didn't_ enjoy about this job, from the long nights away from Calleigh, to ending up trying to defend a guilty party when he _knew_ the forensic evidence would put them away. It had been Calleigh's wishes that had factored most into his acceptance of the position…at least, he'd thought so. Despite the heaviness of the moment, Eric couldn't deny the tiny smile that tugged at the corner of his lips – if there was one thing he might never understand, it was how Calleigh's mind truly worked. "Why would you want me to take the job if it was going to be so hard on you?" he asked gently.

Again she shook her head. "It's not that, Eric," she said softly. And truly, it wasn't – Calleigh just couldn't seem to formulate what it was. It wasn't _just_ the Gardner case, as she'd had time to discover while waiting for him.

"Then what, baby?" he pleaded gently with her, unable to stop the endearment from slipping out with the rest. He rarely indulged in that one, had only done so once or twice, in fact, but tonight he couldn't help it. She was standing before him in his t-shirt with tears in her eyes and looking smaller and more fragile than he'd _ever_ seen her, and he just couldn't stop himself. "Talk to me?"

She still didn't quite understand it; wasn't sure she ever would, let alone Eric. But his eyes and his voice were _so_ inviting, so soothing, and with a deep breath, Calleigh threw caution to the wind and decided just to verbalize what was on her mind. If she couldn't be open with him _now_, after the weightiest confession of her life, then there was really no hope for them at all. "When you, uh, went to Puerto Rico, I thought – I thought that you were gone for good," she began. "I didn't know what else to think. First, you resigned from CSI, and you weren't going to tell me. And then you left Miami without as much as a word to me. I get that you – you needed space after everything…but Eric, it was _me_. And you couldn't even talk to me."

Again she continued before he could have a chance to interject – if she stopped now, Calleigh was afraid she might not have the momentum to continue. "I – I felt like I was losing you. I wanted you to take this job because I wanted you to – to have a reason to stay in Miami." The words he'd whispered to her sleeping form in the hospital crept back to her – she too wasn't sure what she would do without Eric in her life. Closing her eyes, Calleigh fought against the blush that threatened to rise in her cheeks. She knew her words and her feelings were incredibly selfish – she could bite back the words, but they would only bubble up within her and burst in the kind of confession she'd issued earlier…and she knew there was no way she could ignore the feelings. "I just…I didn't want you to go," she added, her voice so small in the darkened foyer.

"I'm right here," Eric murmured, his heart aching for her. Slowly he brought his other hand up, softly clasping her other cheek. "I'm right here…"

Calleigh blinked, forcing back the pooling tears. Nevertheless, she couldn't stop her voice from trembling as she spoke. "I know. And – and it's been okay, really. I know it's the job that's constantly taking you out of Miami, for whatever reason. I just…"

The feel of both of his thumbs softly caressing her cheeks tenderly coaxed her into continuing, but it was the slow, gentle kiss to her forehead that had her opening the very depths of her heart to him. "I just…I missed you _so_ much tonight. I _needed_ you; I've never needed you like this before and it scares me. And – and I _know_ you're not really out in the field; I know you're mostly in the courtroom and observing and all that, but…" She paused, swallowing hard. "I've been through something like this before, and after today, this Gardner case…I just couldn't stop worrying that something was going to happen to you out there, and I – I wouldn't be able to…"

The boundary provided by her closed eyelids failed then as the first tears squeezed stealthily through, moistening her cheeks again. And that was enough for Eric – as soon as the moisture found the pads of his thumbs, his heart shattered completely. There was one thing he was sure he hated more than anything else, and that was Calleigh crying – it was worse, knowing it was, in effect, his doing. Releasing her cheeks, he slowly gathered her in his arms, bringing her against his chest. She didn't resist – wouldn't have resisted even if she could've. Instead, her arms looped tightly around his neck, indulging in the feel of finally, _finally_ being back in his arms.

Her strength, so rattled for most of the evening, was finally depleted. She couldn't fight the tears, couldn't fight the quiet sobs that pushed their way to the surface. Her body began to tremble in his arms, and Eric gently tightened his arms around her, closing his own eyes as he buried his face in her blonde locks. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the words delivered directly to her ear. He knew what she'd meant when she'd said she'd been through something like this before – his frequent absences, never knowing where he would be sent until the state's attorney's office delivered the message to his phone, sometimes at the oddest hours of the morning. He _wasn't_ undercover; he _wasn't_ putting himself in situations of uncertainty, situations of absolute danger, but the idea that he was putting her through _anything_ similar to what she'd been through with Jake left his heart breaking and his stomach churning with guilt. He knew Jake had hurt her dearly and that that was part of the reason why she'd been so hesitant in the beginning to let Eric hold her heart; the last thing he'd _ever_ wanted to do was inflict any kind of similar pain upon the beautiful woman in his arms. "I'm _so _sorry…"

Despite the tears, Calleigh vigorously shook her head. "_No_," she choked out, the single word muffled slightly against Eric's chest. "It's not you…" Her body still trembling, she clung even more tightly to him, almost as though afraid he might disappear again. She hated this feeling of weakness, of vulnerability, but not even the silent declarations that she was stronger than this could force back the pulsing emotions that consumed every fiber of her being.

It _wasn't_ him, but Calleigh couldn't find the words to tell him that. It wasn't him; it wasn't the job – when she'd heard he'd taken the position, she'd been ecstatic. It had meant he _hadn't_ wanted to escape Miami; hadn't wanted to distance himself completely from her. It meant that, just maybe, it _was_ just the day-to-day hassles of CSI that he wanted away from.

She just hadn't expected it to be this hard. And most nights, it wasn't. Most nights, it had been enough to hear his voice over the phone, to know that he would be home in a day or two. The problem was that, rather blindly, she'd taken for granted the fact that he _would_ be home.

And then, the Gardner case had ripped away any shred of blind naivety that she might've held. Janet had expected beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sam would eventually be home from what she'd insisted was a ridiculous, childish excursion. And thus, the worry had begun. Eric _might_ just be in the courtroom most of the time, but so were criminals. And Calleigh had seen a number of cases thwarted by angry criminals looking for revenge; it wasn't unheard of for guns and bombs to make their way into the courtroom, especially in some of the lesser developed places that Eric had been sent to. Beyond that, there was always the chance of car accidents, any number of other dangers that could potentially take him from her forever. Just the thought left Calleigh shuddering, clinging to Eric with all she had.

She had thought she'd feel _so_ much better once she finally got the chance to tell Eric what she'd needed to tell him before, but even now, Calleigh still lacked the assurance she'd been certain she'd find. And it was all of this that she needed to explain to him, but all she could summon up were more tears, tears that had quickly soaked into the fabric of Eric's shirt.

All the time that the tears had fallen, Eric had been softly stroking her back, whispering quietly into her ear until her body began to still, until her grip upon him began to falter as the inevitable exhaustion began to settle in.

He was the first to pull away, once her body had stilled completely, only after her tears had given way to mere sniffles. And as he gazed down at her, with her eyes red and her cheeks moist, Eric still found himself taken aback by just how beautiful she truly was, and right now, it had just as much, if not more to do with the fact that she was so emotionally _open_ to him as it did with her physical beauty.

Calleigh sniffled, feeling more than just a bit embarrassed under his careful scrutiny. "I'm sorry, Eric," she muttered again, glossy green meeting deepest brown as their gazes locked once more. "I – I didn't mean to pull you away, didn't mean to make you drive all this way just because I –"

"I love you." Warm palms once more cupped her cheeks, thumbs gently capturing the last of the stray tears. "I love you, Calleigh. You have _no_ idea how – how hard it was for me to hear you say that over the phone and not say it back right then."

For a moment, all Calleigh heard was those particular three words. She couldn't deny that she'd had an inkling that he felt the same for her as she did for him – after all, she'd read his file, she'd seen many times the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. But nothing could prepare her for the rush of warmth that spread through her body like golden sun upon actually _hearing_ the words.

And then he touched his forehead to hers, a gesture so tender that Calleigh felt her eyes begin to water yet again. His scent washed over her, calming her from within, and Calleigh had no choice but to let her eyes slowly close again. His warm breath tickled her face, sending her heart into rapid motion as she realized just how close he was to her. "Eric…"

"I love you…" This time, the words were little more than a whisper, barely audible even to Calleigh's own ears. And before Calleigh could even formulate any kind of reply, his lips were on hers in a kiss so tender, so sweet and slow that Calleigh found she could barely stand through it. She clutched her hands in his shirt, desperately seeking support lest she tumble to the floor at his feet – though she was sure he wouldn't actually let that happen. Her entire body tingled, so alive with sensation that spread from the connection of their lips all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes, and despite all the hundreds, maybe even thousands of kisses she'd shared with him, there was something so different about this one. Something so different about the way her lips meshed with his; something so different about the emotion conveyed by that. And Calleigh had never before thought that three little words could have such a measurable effect on something so physical as a kiss.

She was suddenly dizzied at the thought; if a simple kiss could mean so much more, then what did that mean for everything else? Right now, it was just too much to fathom, especially with her mind so blurred and numbed by the sensual rhythm played out by their lips. She shivered; whimpered in protest as Eric slowly broke away from her, leaving her feeling oddly empty without the feel of his lips on hers.

It was as though she'd forgotten how to breathe, so affected she'd been. Her lungs burned and her knees wobbled, and Calleigh all but collapsed against Eric's strong body, once more looping her arms around his neck. She didn't want to let him go; never wanted to let him go ever again. She wanted, _needed_ him closer, and as though sensing both that and her diminishing strength, Eric smiled softly, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Come 'ere," he murmured, and with that, he effortlessly lifted her from the ground, feeling her legs automatically wrap around his waist. Calleigh sighed softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, a motion that left Eric's own heart melting. She didn't know where he was taking her as he began to slowly move, but that mattered not to Calleigh – he could carry her anywhere right now, and she'd go without even the slightest protest.

The destination wasn't a mystery for long, though, and within minutes, Calleigh was tucked securely into bed, her body curved snugly into Eric's – at first, after tucking her beneath the covers, he'd slipped in behind her. But that had been entirely unacceptable to Calleigh; she _needed_ to be facing him, and quickly she'd shifted beside him, turning in order to nuzzle against him.

For a while, there was merely silence, broken only by the soft sounds of their breath, of lingering sniffles from Calleigh. She clutched to him, letting him hold her against him as she attempted to gather the thoughts that were racing through her hazy mind. It remained all but impossible to make sense of any of them, except for the soothing knowledge that Eric was safe - and, after nearly losing him twice, that knowledge was something very necessary to her. Eric was safe, unlike Sam Gardner; he'd returned her words in person, rather than on a videotape. She was cuddled in his arms, in her bed, and all was quickly beginning to feel right with the world again.

But still, she was bothered dearly by the moment of weakness she'd exhibited. In her mind, Calleigh knew she would've been perfectly fine to just go to bed and wake up for work in the morning – perhaps helped into sleep by a glass of wine before bed. And then a day or two later, Eric would've been home, and none of the night's events would have transpired. It was ridiculous, honestly ridiculous, and Calleigh still felt utterly mortified. She had called Eric, woken him up in the middle of the night, and then he'd been unsettled by her behavior enough that he'd jumped out of bed and made his way to her, likely breaking many of the speed limits along the way. Even now, she felt her cheeks burn. Loss of control was not something Calleigh Duquesne ever took lightly.

A greater concern was the fact that he _had_ dropped everything, that he _had_ sacrificed some much needed sleep just to come to her. That, coupled with the regret he'd expressed over knowing that his absences were painful to her…it left her with the fear that he might do something unthinkable. Drawing away from him, Calleigh sought out his eyes, finding not only the deep brown orbs, but also the inviting, warming devotion contained within. "You know that this –" she struggled for the words, choosing instead to give a halfhearted gesture in the dark. "You know this isn't me, right? Tonight was - I'm not–"

Eric stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips. "I know who you are," he replied softly. "And I _love _who you are."

Calleigh couldn't help but smile softly as he tenderly traced her lips, his touch so light but enough to set off the storm within her. "Just – just promise me something, okay?" she asked quietly, lips moving against his touch. He waited silently, his eyes imploring her to continue, and Calleigh failed to hold back a roll of her own eyes at herself. "Promise me you're not going to do something stupid, like…like quit your job, just because I was a bit…crazy tonight."

Eric grinned. "Actually, I happen to like that side of you," he commented, attempting to derail the entire moment. "I, uh, wouldn't call it crazy, but I think that side of you fits in quite nicely with all the others…" He trailed off, offering a playful wink.

"All the others?" Calleigh questioned, lifting a quizzical brow.

"Well yeah," Eric said, his grin widening. Shifting beside her, he drew close enough to press a kiss to her lips to emphasize each point. "There's professional Calleigh. Playful Calleigh. Way-too-cheerful Calleigh – Speed came up with that one, by the way," he amended with a smirk, watching the grin tug at Calleigh's lips. "Beautiful Calleigh…she's always around," he continued, earning himself a full grin and another burst of color in her cheeks – she'd blushed more tonight than he thought she ever had, and he couldn't pretend he didn't like it. "And let's not forget…sexy Calleigh…"

At that, Calleigh couldn't deny the small giggle that slipped from her lips. "Now you're just trying to flatter me," she murmured. "Not to mention change the subject, Eric."

She wanted a promise; he wasn't entirely certain that was feasible, because the words he whispered next were the absolute truth. "You know, to be honest, I can't say I really like it that much anyway," he said, referring once more to the job. Calleigh gave him a look, _that_ look, the one that normally left him feeling as though she could see right through him – except this time, he was being completely honest. "I'm serious, Cal. You try defending guys you know are guilty, see how much it goes against everything you've learned as a CSI. I don't get to choose who I defend in this job - I had a client a couple weeks ago who I _knew _couldn't have been more guilty, but there was nothing I could do about it because that's no longer part of my job...and I kind of miss that. "

"Well, you're not going to quit," Calleigh said matter-of-factly, still not entirely convinced he was being completely truthful. "You can't do that to your career, even if you _don't_ like the job – it wouldn't look good, leaving CSI so abruptly, and then leaving this just a few months after you took it."

She had a point, but Eric conceded, choosing not to push it farther for the moment. Truth was, there was something missing in this job, something he'd left behind when he'd left CSI. In the lab, there was an undeniable sense of family; in the state's attorney's office, it was just a job, just a way to make money. And Eric would be lying if he hadn't wished more than once that his new boss could be more like Horatio. He _did_ miss the relationship he had with his superior; he missed the teasing rivalry he shared with Wolfe; he missed the friendship he'd developed over the past couple of years with Natalia. And most of all, he missed being able to wander into the ballistics lab, sometimes with no purpose at all, and see Calleigh smiling back at him. He'd had his reasons for walking away, but in the end, he wasn't sure it had been worth it at all. He felt almost as though he'd left his family behind.

Lying beside her, fingertips dancing over arbitrary spots on her body, Eric pondered all of this until Calleigh's soft voice broke through the clouds in his mind. "Can I ask you something?" She waited for Eric to voice his assent before continuing, her voice only barely loud enough to traverse the small space between. "Earlier, in the foyer, after you said…" She trailed off, swallowing hard before attempting to continue. "You, uh, you said that you couldn't say it back to me over the phone. Why not?"

The answer to that was simple enough – after all, he'd known immediately that a simple, repeated declaration over the wire wouldn't be enough for him. And that was because it was _more_ than just a simple repetition – there was nothing simple nor repetitive about the depth of his feelings for her, and the last thing he wanted to do in that moment was make them seem as though they were. It was complex; it was _real_, and Eric wasn't going to allow any amount of distance to make it seem otherwise. "Because I needed to be face to face with you," he revealed after a long moment, threading gentle fingers through her hair. "I _needed_ to tell _you_. Not over the phone, not when I was a city away from you. I needed to tell you in person."

At his words, Calleigh felt a slow heat rise up in her cheeks, yet again. This time, it wasn't her weakness or her neediness that was put on center stage; it was her impatience. Eric hadn't seemed to mind that at all, though, but Calleigh couldn't help but feel it was just a bit silly, now, in the aftermath. "I, uh, I couldn't wait," she admitted quietly of her hurried confession, allowing a small smile to tug at her lips.

Eric gave a soft chuckle, gently pressing his lips to the corner of hers. "I think that just made me fall even more in love with you," he said softly, seeking out her hand with his beneath the covers. Finding it, he laced their fingers together, reveling for a moment in the way their hands simply _fit_ together, despite hers being so much smaller than his…and really, perhaps that was part of the perfection. Everything about her was tiny compared to him, and yet she seemed to just fit in his life – hands to hands, her head beneath his chin, arms and legs entwined in an attempt to stay connected after a lazy evening of lovemaking. "That's what made it _so_ hard to wait until I was in front of you to say it. It _killed _me not to…but I think it would've been harder to say it, and _not_ be able to have you in my arms."

His answer made sense, and Calleigh nodded slowly, feeling a warmth flow through her body at his words, at his blatant honesty. By the time she managed to find her voice again, the repeated apology she'd hoped to deliver with poise scratched hoarsely against her throat. "I'm still sorry for making you drive all the way here," she murmured, wincing slightly at the sound of her voice in her own ears. "I –"

Before she could continue, Eric gently tilted her face toward him and captured her lips softly with his, effectively silencing the apology, the slight guilt he knew she still felt. "Stop it," he breathed against her lips, catching her whimper with another kiss. She hesitated slightly, but between instinct and the maddening flutter of her heart, Calleigh couldn't help but respond; slowly, their lips melded together in a kiss that left every inch of her body electrified, all but humming in response to the feelings that a simple kiss could draw out of her. And simple it was; when finally she attempted to deepen it, Eric broke away from her, much to her dismay.

Dazed emerald eyes fluttered open to meet his, and without thinking she swiped her tongue slowly across her lips, relishing the taste of him that remained. She willed her mind to start again, though difficult it was in the wake of such a tender kiss. It was of no use though once her mind _did_ begin to formulate words again; as soon as her lips parted, Eric was silencing her with a gentle thumb to her mouth. "If you hadn't called, how do you know I wouldn't have made the drive anyway?" he asked quietly, his eyes keeping nothing from her. He gave a small smile, almost sheepish, and Calleigh felt her heart give a light flutter. His palm found the curve of her hip, lingering just beneath the hem of the shirt she wore. "How do you know I didn't miss you that badly?" He paused, allowing his sheepish smile to become a full grin on his lips. "Because I _did _miss you pretty damn badly."

He looked away for only the briefest second, though it was long enough for Calleigh to miss the dark brown depths in which she'd easily lost herself within. "This job…" he began again, allowing his touch to stray just beneath her shirt, seeking out the silky skin he knew he'd find underneath. "I don't know if you realize that it's been hard for me, too," he whispered, mesmerizing Calleigh with the potent combination of his eyes, his touch, and his voice. "Everything that's happened since…since the Russians – it's all been nearly impossible for me, because I didn't want to be away from you. I didn't want to hurt you either, and I'd promised myself that I _wouldn't_." He paused, holding her gaze and allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing, his voice taking on a somber tone. "Those are some, uh, pretty heavy broken promises to live with."

The guilt in those words pierced through Calleigh's heart like a thousand tiny daggers. "Eric –"

He shook his head, stopping her before she could continue. "Just listen, okay?" he pleaded softly, waiting for her nod of assent before continuing. "I know I let things get out of hand after the shootout – I never really gave you a straight answer as to where we stood, and I…I don't really know why I didn't. I don't know why I never said anything to you about Puerto Rico, and you have no idea how bad I still feel about that. I guess the answer is…that _I_ didn't even know where we really stood. I wasn't sure how you could ever trust me again, and I guess I just didn't want to face that." Pausing, Eric shrugged, knowing the depth of his soul was open to Calleigh right now through his eyes. "I ran."

Familiar words, those, and for the first time, Calleigh felt that she could admit as much. She offered a soft smile, gently brushing his calf with a toe beneath the covers. "I guess I'd know a thing or two about that," she murmured.

Eric smiled softly, though said nothing. He knew he'd called her out on that before, more than once. Never again, though. Now, he understood all too well the temptation to run when facing something that seemed too much. "I came back," he said finally, holding her gaze. "I just…needed some time to think. About everything – my family, my career, my life." He paused, letting his words settle in the space between. "About you and me."

Calleigh nodded slowly. "And you came back…"

"I came back," Eric repeated. He broke eye contact briefly, for the moment concentration on the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. "Can I tell you something?" he asked quietly, lifting his gaze once more just in time to catch Calleigh's silent nod. "Earlier you said that you wanted me to take this job because you wanted me to stay here," he said, pausing again to draw in a deep breath. "If there's one thing that I realized during my time in Puerto Rico, one thing that I've realized every night I've spent outside of Miami, it's that I already _have_ a reason to stay here."

He didn't elaborate, not until prompted softly by Calleigh. "Yeah?"

He found her hand again, though this time he drew it out from beneath the covers, lifting it slowly to near eye level. His eyes never strayed from hers as he turned her hand so that the top of it rested against his palm, and then with an almost painfully slow tenderness, Eric brought her hand toward him, pursing his lips in a lingering kiss to the center of her palm. "I'm looking right at her," he breathed. Ever gently, he coaxed her fingers to curl, closing her hand in a gesture that penetrated the depth of Calleigh's soul. The message, whether intentional by Eric or not, hit her heart loud and clear – _don't let go_.

Combined with his words, it left her speechless, almost overwhelmed with emotion. Shock, or awe, or just absolute wonder must have shown on her face, for after a moment's wait, Eric continued, answering the query posed by her eyes. "You read my file, Cal," he reminded her softly, a grin tugging at his lips. "How could you _not_ know it was you? _Always_ you?"

"That was over a year ago, Eric. Things change…"

"Hell yeah, things change," Eric acknowledged with a chuckle. Before Calleigh could allow the confusion to settle in, he clarified. "You gave me a chance. You let me in. I nearly _lost_ you, and believe me when I say I _still_ don't know what I would do without you in my life." He returned his hand softly to her cheek. "Couple years ago, I wouldn't have believed there was even a ghost of a chance – I mean, we flirted sometimes, we talked, _really_ talked occasionally, but at one point, I was sure that was as far as this would ever go." Pausing, Eric swallowed hard, feeling his own throat attempt to constrict with emotion. "And now…you're calling me in the middle of the night, telling me you love me…"

Trailing off, Eric watched for a moment as Calleigh's cheeks tinted again at his words. "I don't think you truly realize just how happy it made me to hear those words come out of your mouth," he continued softly, letting his fingers drift slowly into the softness of her hair. "I'll come clean and be completely honest here, okay? I _have_ imagined settling down with you. I've dreamed about waking up beside you, every morning for the rest of my life." Stopping for a moment, Eric grinned, remembering a particular memory. "To be honest, ever since you put that fake veil on at that crime scene ages ago, I've _dreamed_ about watching you walk down the aisle toward me; dreamed about it so many times that sometimes, it's hard to believe it isn't real."

If there existed any possible response to that, Calleigh couldn't find it. She couldn't speak, couldn't think, could barely breathe, and the way he was looking at her, like she was the only woman he could _possibly_ ever love, was enough to flood her with a kind of all-consuming warmth she'd never felt before, not to this magnitude.

And then he was continuing, his words smooth and steady. "I want to marry you, Calleigh," he breathed, his words imposing a full-stop upon the until-now frantic beat of Calleigh's heart. "Don't get me wrong - I'm not proposing right this second. I have plans for that. But I _want_ to marry you. I want to put that ring on your finger; I want you in that white dress, standing in front of the altar with me. I want you…all of you, _forever._ And until tonight, that terrified me. I was afraid that you weren't there…that, after the year we've had, that you might _never_ be there."

The tears had returned in the wake of his weighty confession, once more captured by the gentle caress of his thumb along her cheek. His touch was _so_ tender and his eyes _so_ warm, so honest and inviting, and Calleigh blinked rapidly, struggling for a moment to regain her composure. She _hated_ crying…not as much as she hated being away from Eric, but still she hated it fairly intensely. By the time she found her voice again, it was thick with emotion. "How – how could I _not_ be there?"

Pausing, she gave herself a silent moment to collect her emotions, to try and force them back – she wanted to tell him everything she felt, but the last thing she wanted was to fall apart again. She'd had enough crying for one month, let alone one night. With a sniffle, Calleigh gave a shaky smile, searching desperately for her voice again. "I had a case today that had nothing to do with you and me, and it left me feeling like – like I would die if I didn't get a chance to tell you what I'd been trying to hold back for so long, if I didn't get to tell you exactly how I felt, exactly what you mean to me. I started going through the scenarios…I nearly broke down on the way home, because I couldn't stop imagining horrible things happening to you – it's hard enough to know you're gone for a few days, but I – I couldn't – I don't want a life that you're not a part of. I can't even imagine it."

She stopped there for a much needed deep breath. "I think I've been _there_ for a while," she admitted, reusing his previous term. "I don't know; I just…when I'm thinking of you nearly every minute of the day, when everything reminds me of you, when I want to leave work early just so I can come home, take off my work clothes and curl up in a t-shirt of yours instead…is there anything else it could _possibly _be? I want to be with you so badly that it _terrifies_ me – I mean, what if something happens? What if we fall apart? What if –"

"You'll drive yourself crazy with hypotheticals," Eric interjected quietly. He was utterly floored by her confession; had dreamed of hearing her speak similar words, but really _hearing_ her say it left him without his breath. "I do know, though, that if I have my way, you'll never have to worry about any of that. I'm in love with you, Calleigh. I couldn't leave you, couldn't break your heart without destroying my own right along with it."

And that was _it_. At that point in time, there were two choices – give in to the tears again, or give in to the near-overwhelming necessity to kiss him with everything she had. And to Calleigh, the choice was clear. A trembling hand found a stubbled cheek, and after that everything was a blur, the one predominating force the feel of Eric's lips mingling with hers.

This time, he didn't stop her when she attempted to deepen it, and if Calleigh could've formed coherent thought at the moment, she would've thanked her lucky stars above for that, because she was so desperate to have him _closer_ to her. But despite her urgency, the kiss itself remained slow; a sensual meshing of mouths that left every inch of her body tingling; an unhurried teasing of tongues that left Calleigh whimpering softly into the kiss.

Eric pulled away then, and even though she needed the oxygen, Calleigh gave a sigh of protest. A low, rumbling chuckle emanated from deep in his throat before Eric pressed his lips tenderly to first the tip of her nose, then her cheek, then finally her forehead, seemingly unaware that the simple, innocent kisses were melting Calleigh possibly more so than the one they'd just shared.

He took his time tracing kisses back toward her lips, though he stopped just short of the destination. "As much as I'm enjoying this…it's getting pretty late, you know," he breathed, the warmth of his breath tickling her cheek.

Maybe it was, but that currently made no difference to Calleigh. "Mm-hmm," she hummed, and Eric couldn't help but chuckle as he realized she had no idea what she was responding to. In any case, he was all too happy to oblige her when she gently directed his mouth back to hers, finding once more that same sensual rhythm between their lips as though they'd never separated.

He wasn't sure how long after that they lay there in the dark, trading kisses and touches and more gentle confessions, but the importance of time drifted back to him after a lull of relative silence. Calleigh's eyes had closed and a sleepy smile tugged at her lips – she was almost _gone_, Eric noted with a soft smile. "Calleigh," he murmured, enjoying the sound of the syllables as he drew them out. "_Querida_…"

Her eyes opened slowly, so slowly that if not for the smile, Eric might've thought she truly was emerging from sleep. "I love when you call me that," she murmured, stretching beside him as she tried desperately to ward off the veil of impending sleep.

She failed though to stifle a yawn, and Eric smiled softly. "You were sleepy when I got here…I _know _you've got to be exhausted now." Summoning his strength, he lifted his head just slightly, turning his gaze in the direction of the clock on the nightstand; he was mildly startled to realize just how late – or _early_ – it really was.

"I'm fine," Calleigh mumbled, nudging a leg gently between both of his as she snuggled closer to him. She smiled as instinctively he realized what she wanted. Tightening his arms around her, Eric maneuvered onto his back, gently tugging her with him and allowed her to tuck her head snugly beneath his chin. And she _was_ fine – better than fine, really, despite the exhaustion that he'd perceived. A little fatigue was nothing she couldn't deal with.

Her response was typical, and Eric smirked slightly. "Yeah?" he teased, gently sneaking a hand beneath her top again, laying it innocently over the smooth skin of her back. "And just what are you going to do about work tomorrow?" He paused. "Or, rather, today?"

"I think the bigger concern is what are _you _going to do?" Yawning softly again, Calleigh lay a hand against his chest, just above his heart – there was just something about being able to feel the rhythmic beat against her palm that lulled her. "You're the one who's over half an hour away from work now – no way that drive is happening in less than an hour during the morning commute."

His answer was immediate, and though she couldn't see his face, Calleigh could hear the smile in his voice. "You're crazy if you think I'm leaving here in the morning."

Calleigh smiled, touched by the conviction in his words. "I think…maybe it'll be okay for both of us to take a personal day," she suggested. "I don't want to work cases. I don't want to play with guns. I just…want to be with you."

Eric smiled happily – this was unquestionably the woman who would someday become his wife; the woman he knew he would start his family with. There was simply _no_ one else he could ever want this much, and every little confession of love that spilled from her lips in that beautiful Southern lilt just cemented that truth deeper into his heart. And now, before she slept, he wanted to ask her to say it again – those three words that would forever bring him to her, no matter where he might be. His heart melted entirely though when he discovered that he didn't need to ask.

"I love you, Eric," she mumbled, relishing the feel of each word as it passed her lips. Her eyes drifted closed, and she wasn't going to fight it, not while locked within Eric's embrace – the most hidden depths of her heart were shared with him, and now, simply the feel of his strong arms around her was enough to quiet all of her lingering fears, persistent worries. He was _there_ and he was hers, just as much as she was his. "Thank you for coming home," she added softly, unsure whether the words were actually loud enough to reach his ears.

_Home_, she'd said. Eric couldn't help but smile; perhaps her words had simply meant home in the physical sense, but to Eric, the words ran much deeper. As far as he was concerned, home could be anywhere, as long as Calleigh was there. Coming to Calleigh _was_ coming home. "I would have come to you from the other side of the world," he said, his voice just as quiet as hers. "I love you that much."

And with her head nestled in the crook of his neck, her arm draped across his chest, and her legs tangling beneath the covers with his, Calleigh allowed that soft proclamation to lead her gently into sleep, knowing that in mere hours she would wake in the arms of the man she loved.


End file.
